


Three Weeks Earlier

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The time we spend in control of our world is the time we spend letting go of others." (Otherwise known as 'filling in the gaps as to why the camera focused on Annie & Jeff during this line in 6.10').</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Weeks Earlier

**“The time we spend in control of our world is the time we spend letting go of others. Ideas, stories, pride, girls in soft sweaters, video games, buttered noodles. Grip one for too long and you lose so much that you’ve never held.”**

_Three weeks earlier…_

“I thought the point of forcing me to host game night at my apartment was that _I’d_ get to choose the game,” Jeff muttered, scratching underneath the cheap, green plastic headband currently circling his forehead. “It’s not too late to start up a round of poker you know. Or Uno.”

Annie fiddled with the camera on her phone, hiding a smile. “Yeah, well let me just rain a skip card on your parade right now because that’s not happening.” She held up her cell and snapped a photo of Jeff, laughing when he rolled his eyes at her.

“Show me,” said Britta, tugging the back of her ponytail out from her own headband. She leaned in closer to Annie and smirked at the image of Jeff wearing his cardboard ears. “New Myspace profile pic anyone?”

“Wow,” said Jeff, lifting his glass of whiskey to take a sip. “Here I thought living with Abed would _increase_ your knowledge of current trends.”

“I am current, jag,” she retorted, picking at the label of her beer bottle. “How else do you think I keep up with all the latest Natalie is Freezing tour dates?”

“Who’s Natalie?” another female voice rang out. “Is she one of your new friends? I’d love to say hello but someone has me pointed up towards the Good Lord, which is always a blessing, but the only thing I can see is mold residue on Jeffrey’s ceiling.”

Annie reached across to the laptop perched beside her and tilted the lid down. “Sorry, is that better Shirley?”

“Much,” Shirley smiled, lifting a green band onto her head like a crown. “Thank you for sending me a copy of the game so I could join in.”

“Wait, you already had this planned out?” Jeff asked the women, getting a few nonchalant shrugs in return. “So poker was never in the cards… so to speak.”

“Who were we to miss out on a chance to see you wear ridiculous animal ears?” said Annie, holding her hand out next to the laptop so Shirley could high five the side of the screen.

Jeff rocked his chair back on two legs, tilting his head towards the kitchen. “Abed?” he barked out. “Any time you want to hurry the hell up with those snacks so we can start and then end this stupid game would be great.”

“I can’t find the big bowl for the popcorn,” Abed replied. “And why do you have so many jars of moisturizer in your fridge?” He adopted a Seinfeld voice. “I mean what’s the _deal_ with _moisturizer_?”

“He’s still doing that, huh?” Shirley muttered into her coffee mug.

“Abed, look in the cupboard on the top right with the broken handle. I think I put it back there the other week,” said Annie, writing everyone’s names on the scorecard. “And make sure you steal a jar of face cream. We could sell it on eBay and pay off six months rent.”

“Hilarious,” said Jeff, swapping a wry smile with Annie. “You’ll all be sorry when you’re wrinkled and old while the money-maker continues to be as smooth as a baby’s butt.”

“So we can legitimately call you ass-face?” asked Britta. “Good to know.”

Abed stepped out from the kitchen and placed a red bowl in the middle of the table, before setting down his soda can to put his headband on. “Hey Shirley,” he said, taking a seat next to Jeff. “How’s your spin-off going?”

“My what, pumpkin?” she replied giving him a little wave from her Skype window.

“Abed thinks you’ve moved away to ‘start your own show’,” Britta explained with embellished air quotes.

“Oh, well, that would certainly be exciting, but no. I’m still just here looking after my dad and cooking for Mr Butcher.” She tucked two pieces of cardboard into the clips of her headband, making sure not to peek. “I mean, yes, last week Mr Butcher and I did find human remains in the creek bed next to the town’s haunted mansion, solving a cold case that had spanned forty years. But that’s not an everyday occurrence,” she said dismissively before beaming at them. “Sometimes I bake brownies too.”

The group stared back at her in stunned disbelief, except for Abed whose eyes had lit up. “That might be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he breathed out slowly.

“Aww, that’s nice,” Shirley gave him a pleased smile, fluffing up the back of her hair. “Anyway, tell me all about the latest Greendale gossip. I feel so out of the loop.”

Annie secured her ear cards into her headband. “Did Jeff tell you he was nearly murdered by a prisoner driving an iPad on wheels?”

“Oh my goodness!” said Shirley, shaking her head. “That sounds terrible. And also like something right up Mr Butcher’s alley.”

“I call dibs on guest-starring in the crossover episode,” said Abed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tipping it into his mouth.

Jeff pumped up the music on his iPod dock with the remote. “And I call dibs on starting this game before the year 2060 arrives and I’m dead.” He grabbed the hourglass timer and flipped it over onto the table with a clunk. “Now, do my dumb ears belong to a dumb zoo animal or what?”

* * *

“OK, so with Shirley’s correct guess that takes everyone to two all,” said Annie, marking another smiley face under Shirley’s name on the notepad. “Britta, you’re up.”

Britta chose two facedown cards from the pile and clipped them onto her headband, before starting the timer. “Do I happen to be a species of something considered to be man’s, or _woman’s_ , best friend?” she asked with a smile.

“You’re not a dog, sweetie,” Shirley replied.

“ _No_ ,” Britta drew out, like she was explaining something to a child, “a person’s _best_ friend.”

“Troy?” said Abed.

“ _Nooooo_ , a person’s…”

“For the one thousandth time, you’re not a cat,” Jeff interrupted.

Annie frowned at him and then Britta. “But that doesn’t make sense. Cats aren’t considered man’s best friend.”

“Well they _should_ be, dammit!” said Britta, slamming her hand down on the table, causing everyone’s drinks to rattle. “I’m sorry,” she added after a pause, leaning back in her chair. “I’m just a bit sensitive because Chomsky brought a dead mouse to Abed today instead of me.”

Abed nodded. “We’ve grown into a mutual if not begrudging form of acceptance. It’s like having Pierce around again.”

“Only now you get dead vermin instead of a thermos full of semen,” said Jeff, offering up his whiskey in a cheers motion. “Who knows, maybe Chomsky will shed less fur.”

* * *

“The timer’s nearly run out, Annie,” said Abed, earning a reproachful glare from the brunette.

“I’m aware of that, Captain Obvious,” mocked Annie, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Abed blinked at her. “Not to be Captain Obvious about being Captain Obvious, but you’ve already called me that at least five times tonight. It’s starting to lose its effect.”

“Don’t poke the bear,” Britta whispered in his direction, quickly shaking her head when she heard an excited gasp. “That wasn’t a hint, Annie.”

“ _Darn it_.” Annie tapped her fingernails against the top of the table, murmuring to herself. “Could it be…? No of course not, dummy, they don’t have the dexterity… Ugh, _think_ , Edison!”

Jeff raised his eyebrows, muting the smirk that threatened his face. “Annie? You’re not competing for a million dollars on TV. Your prize is quite literally bragging rights to winning a game no one on this earth should be bragging about.”

“That’s not the point, Jeff,” said Annie, staring at the timer as if she could reverse the grains of sand with the sheer force of her mind. “The point is that this game is meant for seven-year-olds and it’s kicking my ass right now.”

“Seven and _up_ ,” he supplied helpfully, dodging a kernel of popcorn aimed at his head. “Wow, way to act like that thing we saw last week in the park behind the mall…” Jeff let his words linger, smiling when Annie’s eyes suddenly widened in recognition.

“Am I a squirrel?” she blurted out, just as the timer ran its course. Annie whooped with glee and danced in her seat when Abed nodded at her. “Oh yeah! Boo-yah, suckers!”

Shirley gave a thoughtful glance in Jeff’s direction. “I may not be the resident lawyer of the group, but I’m pretty sure that could be classified as leading the witness.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shirley,” said Jeff, shrugging one shoulder.

“And what was that about being in a park together all cosy-like, hmm?” she added coyly, while Annie, Abed and Britta were distracted performing their new three-way housemate handshake.

Jeff offered her an indifferent smile before sipping his whiskey. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, Shirley.”

“ _Sure_ you don’t, Captain Couldn’t-Be-More-Obvious,” she murmured.

* * *

“Am I a…”

“Britta if you say cat one more time I’m going to make sure Chomsky and Abed get matching best friends forever necklaces, that I will _personally_ engrave, just to piss you off even more.”

“Way to be an ass, ass-face.”

* * *

Shirley returned to the Skype window, putting her phone aside. “Sorry everyone, that was Mr Butcher.” She readjusted her right ear card after turning it sideways to hear properly. “He gets a bit anxious if I don’t answer.”

“What did he want?” said Abed eagerly. “Are you hot on the heels of another murder suspect? Did he need you to bail him out of jail?” He leaned further across the table, lowering his voice in an almost reverent tone. “Are you the real True Detective season two?”

Annie patted his arm. “Vince Vaughn’s already started filming. Just let it go, Abed.”

“Oh no, nothing like that, sweetie,” Shirley replied a little too quickly. “Mr Butcher was just reminding me to pick up some supplies at the grocery store in the morning.” She wrung her hands together and worried her teeth on her bottom lip, earning Britta’s attention.

“OK, spill the rest of it,” said Britta, imitating Shirley in an exaggerated fashion when her friend feigned ignorance. “You’re acting weird like when you have gossip you’re trying not to word-vomit out.”

Annie hummed in agreement. “Like that time at your farewell party after we all said our individual goodbyes.” She heard Jeff choke on his drink and shot him a concerned glance.

“Sorry,” Jeff rasped, thumping at his chest. “Ice went down the wrong way.”

“Isn’t that whiskey neat?” said Abed. “And was that the party everyone told me was Shirley’s pre-birthday birthday? It makes sense now why people were crying.”

“Shut up, Abed,” wheezed Jeff. “You’re not True Detective season two either.” He darted his eyes towards the laptop, exchanging a silent plea with Shirley as he settled his coughing. “So are you holding out on a candlestick-maker to go with this butcher and baker scenario or what?”

Shirley stilled her hands, clearing her throat before she spoke again. “Well, it seems that along with picking up the groceries I have to pick up my fake ID so I can search the morgue without arousing suspicion. _Then_ gather evidence from the ex-town mayor’s body to help with a case Mr Butcher’s working on.”

The group gaped at her before Britta let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty ballsy.”

“I’d say I could die happy now,” said Abed, “but Marvel’s got me on a tight viewing schedule for at least the next decade.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us that?” asked Annie, smiling broadly. “That sounds _amazing_. And super disturbing. I’m so jealous!”

“I don’t know,” said Shirley, ducking her head at the compliments. “I didn’t want it to sound like I was bragging and that I didn’t miss you guys and the Greendale life.”

Leading the ‘aww’ chorus, Annie wrapped her arms around the computer in a hug. “We miss you too, Shirley.”

“Admit it, though,” said Jeff with a grin. “You are bragging just a little bit.”

“Hell yeah I am,” Shirley crowed, brushing some imaginary dirt off her shoulder. “I even gave my own Winger speech the other day in the middle of a courtroom. Except I’ve renamed it a ‘Bennett boost’,” she added with a giggle.

Jeff chuckled and picked up the whiskey bottle to refill his glass. “Alright, Columbo, put those new detective skills to good use and guess your damn ears already.”

* * *

“Come on, you’ve got this, Jeff,” said Annie encouragingly, folding her arms on the table and leaning closer. “Don’t give up.”

Scoffing loudly, Jeff perfected a casual slump in his chair, hoping no one would notice his covert glance at the rapidly declining hourglass of doom. “It’s hardly the end of the world if I don’t know I’m a…” he let the last word dangle, eager for a bite.

“Yeah, we’re not about to fill in that gap for you,” said Britta, smirking when he glowered at her.

“This game is my purgatory!” snapped Jeff, rubbing at his eyes. “Ugh, fine, whatever. Am I a mammal?”

“Yes!” chirped Annie. “See? Keep going.”

Jeff screwed up his face while he combed through the mental catalogue of animals he’d already guessed. “Do I live on the ground?” He tried again after hearing their negative refrain. “In trees?”

“You’re on the right track,” said Shirley.

Annie nudged her ballet flat into Jeff’s shoe under the table. “Don’t _cave_ in now.” She gave him a smile and a brief thumbs up when he registered the hint.

“Am I small?” Jeff heard a snort and threw some popcorn at Britta. “Is the _mammal_ small, smartass?”

“Yes to both of your questions,” Britta replied with a saccharine smile. “And your time’s nearly up.”

Picking up another handful of popcorn to throw, Jeff paused when he heard Annie unsubtly clear her throat. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied innocently, toying with the ring pull on her soda can. “I just remember the last time popcorn was hurled at an event you ended up dumping nachos on an idiotic _baseball_ fan’s head, that’s all,” she shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Jeff’s chest as his next guess was confirmed. “Take me out to the ballgame, jerks, because I’m pretty sure I’m a bat.” He took off his headband and flung it away like a Frisbee.

“What in the hell was that crap?” Britta protested while Annie drew a smiley face under Jeff’s name on the scorecard.

“I kept Jeff company at the Greendale versus City College baseball match last month because he was stuck supervising the team,” Annie explained with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

“Wait, we have a baseball team?” said Britta.

“You went on another cute little outing together?” cooed Shirley.

“Is that why you asked me where you might be able to hire A League of Their Own costume replica?”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at Abed’s statement, earning a choked sound of indignation from Annie. “I was only joking, Abed! _Obviously_ ,” she stammered, a tinge of red highlighting her cheeks. “I mean as if I was going to turn up in a retro baseball outfit like some sort of weirdo just to get a reaction out of this dummy,” she said with a strained laugh, jerking her thumb at Jeff. “ _Pfft. Chhyeah right_.”

Abed studied her for a moment before speaking. “That still doesn’t explain the nacho dumping. And the fact that this ears game seems to be tied into nacho references.” He picked up a scattered piece of popcorn to chew on, considering the options. “Are Doritos the new Subway in this universe?”

“Hmm? What?” Jeff replied, shaking himself from his Lori Petty-infused thoughts. “Right, nachos. Uh, well that would be because some asshole was heckling Annie.”

“Only because I stood up in front of him and caught the ball that was sailing into the crowd,” said Annie, rolling her eyes. “What was I supposed to do? Embrace concussion with open arms?”

“Needless to say, asshole guy was an asshole about that as well,” said Jeff, frowning at the memory.

“Yes he was. The fact that I threatened to shove a baseball bat _repeatedly_ where the sun doesn’t shine after he swore at me was probably a factor too.” Anne smirked at Britta and Shirley’s hoots of glee, giving them a mock curtsey from her chair.

Jeff shook his head in amusement. “ _Then_ asshole guy decides to throw popcorn at Annie like the classy human garbage he is, so I stole Garrett’s nachos and introduced the guy to Fight Club 2: Tortilla Boogaloo.” He gave everyone a solemn look. “The first rule is that you can’t taco ‘bout it.” Jeff grinned, holding out his arms in a welcoming gesture at everyone’s booing.

“You’re officially the worst,” said Britta, standing up to collect another beer from the kitchen.

“As a wise man who lives in an RV once said, that’s nacho problem,” Jeff retorted, throwing a smirk Annie’s way when she swiftly kicked his leg under the table.

* * *

Rolling his neck from side to side, Abed opened his mouth as if he was going to speak before changing his mind and picking up his orange soda to take a long gulp.

“Abed?” said Annie, a tinge of incredulity in her voice. “Are you seriously doing a bit right now on the last round?” She nodded her head towards the hourglass. “Not to take on your Captain Obvious mantle, but you’re almost done for and I’m pretty sure you know what your ears are.”

“Everyone on Earth knows what his ears are,” Britta grumbled, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Abed gave them a shrug. “Maybe I don’t know,” he said, licking a droplet of soda from his top lip. “Maybe I’ve taken one dive too many into the guessing pool and realized that this small, four-legged, long-tailed, indoor and also outdoor, whiskered, furry pet could be anything.”

“Yeah,” said Jeff, “whatever could this mouse-murdering enigma be?”

“Exactly,” Abed replied, sitting back to observe as the last grains of sand fell.

“Time’s up, pumpkin,” said Shirley, with an affectionate smile. “Take off those ears of yours you have ‘no idea about’ and have a look.”

Lifting the green band off his head, Abed considered the cat ear cards with a small nod before unclipping them and placing them back in the box. “I vote we retire these ears and make them the official group mascot. Or guardian of our galaxy,” he mused as an afterthought, lowering the timbre of his voice. “I am cat.” He glanced towards Britta, whose face was brightening in surprise. “ _We_ are cat.”

“I have no idea if you’re referencing a movie or not right now,” said Britta, her throat constricting with a sudden wave of emotion. “But I hope you live long and prosper with the force too, Abed.” She held out her hand for him to high five, awkwardly hitting her chest in a different rhythm to her housemate. “I’ll get that right one day, I promise,” she said sheepishly.

Beaming at her friends, Annie glanced down at the scorecard, letting out a strangled squeak of delight after she tallied the results.

“Let me guess,” said Jeff with a knowing smile, “you earned your bragging rights?”

“I sure as heck…” Annie began with a grin, but her face soon fell. Chewing on her lip, she tapped the pen on the table in a steady beat contemplating her next move before hastily scribbling out one mark from her column. “I didn’t earn that squirrel round,” she admitted, giving Jeff a soft smile. “Not fairly anyway.”

Jeff drew his head back, raising his eyebrows at her. “Annie ‘I once made Chang cry over a game of Candy Land’ Edison, are you honestly throwing in the towel right now?”

“Maybe I’m growing as a person,” she replied, poking out her tongue. She took off her headband and smoothed down the strands of hair caught on the plastic. “And FYI I didn’t make Chang cry, smart guy.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “It was more of a delicate whimper.”

“I don’t think anyone would hold any version of that against you,” Shirley muttered under her breath.

“More to the point, _Jeff_ ,” said Annie mischievously, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth. “Shouldn’t you also be playing fair and conceding defeat over your cheat round? After all,” she gestured towards Britta and Abed, “we are cat, aren’t we?” She pumped her fist in the air. “We are cat, we are cat,” she chanted, with everyone aside from Jeff joining in.

Fiddling around with his phone, Jeff located the app he was after and pressed a button, sending out a loud air horn sound that startled his friends into silence. “I knew that buck ninety nine would pay off one day,” he boasted.

“Jeff, come on,” coaxed Annie, “just admit you’re a cat too and we can finish the game.”

“I thought we’d already established I’m more the Chris Pratt type in these kind of scenarios?” Jeff felt Annie’s gaze burn into him as he concentrated on his whiskey glass. “Godammit,” he sighed, before finally meeting her imploring, wide-eyed stare. He placed one hand on the lid of the game box like it was a bible, the other in the air. “I’m a stupid cat and I cheated with the stupid bat, aka the lesser-known works of Dr Seuss,” he announced. “Are you happy now?”

“Very,” she smirked, crossing off one of Jeff’s smiley faces with a flourish. “Do you know what the best part is, though? You were three points behind so you weren’t going to win anyway.” She chuckled at his huff of annoyance, ducking when a handful of popcorn sailed her way. “You are such a child,” she teased.

Sliding the scorecard in front of her, Britta surveyed the marks. “So if Winger didn’t come first, and you didn’t either, Annie then…” She broke out into a broad grin. “Are you freakin’ kidding me? I won something?”

Nodding, Annie brushed a piece of food off her sweater. “You beat Abed by one whole point,” she said, tilting her head towards the cat ears.

“Cool. Cool cool cool ranch Doritos,” said Abed, giving her a thumbs up. “Gotta keep the sponsors happy,” he explained off the group’s blank looks.

“Aww, Abed,” said Britta, reaching out to latch onto his arm. “You know what, buddy? I’m gonna buy you that Inspector Spacetime figurine thing you keep looking at online.”

Annie nearly spluttered out her water she’d been sipping. “Britta that ‘figurine thing’ costs over a thousand dollars.”

Britta’s smile froze. “I’m gonna buy you a week’s worth of buttered noodles,” she amended, holding up a finger to Annie’s face just as she made a scoffing sound. “After I pay my damn rent, I know, so don’t even go there sister girlfriend.”

“Is that the final stage before you become sister wives?” said Jeff, helping Annie sweep all of the cards into a messy pile in the middle of the table. “What the hell is happening in your apartment these days and how do I get in on it?”

“Oh please,” Annie teased, collecting everyone’s headbands. “As if you’ve got the stamina.”

Jeff pretended to gape at her in offence. “Oh yeah?” he challenged. “Says who?”

“Says the person who found you napping on the couch the other day when I came over,” she replied in a singsong voice, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It seems the Home Shopping Network really wore you out.” She pouted her lips at him. “Poor widdle Jeff.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. “My new De’Longhi espresso maker and I don’t care for your tone.”

“Ooh, an espresso maker,” Shirley enthused, rubbing her hands together. “Why don’t you put those Popeye arms of yours to good use, Jeff, and carry me into the kitchen so I can see it.”

Grabbing the laptop, Jeff slid back his chair to stand and strolled into the kitchen. “I never actually understood the Popeye thing,” he said to Shirley, placing the computer on his bench top. “Why are only his forearms ripped? He looks like a balloon animal gone wrong.”

“Quit your yammering about Popeye would you?” Shirley interrupted, moving closer to the screen. “We’ve got more important things to talk about.”

“Right, the coffee maker. I’ll just…”

“Jeff, you put your ass down on a stool right now and listen up.”

“O…K?” he replied uncertainly, sitting down and giving her his full attention. “If this intimidation technique is how you’re catching all your criminals these days it’s really working. You’re kind of scaring me.”

Shirley frowned at him before lowering her voice so that no one else could hear them. “Do you want to hear something _really_ scary?”

“No?”

She ignored him. “How about the fact that you obviously still haven’t told Annie about what really saved you from Borchert’s bunker of crazy?”

Jeff’s eyes bulged as he frantically tapped the volume down on the laptop while simultaneously increasing the volume on the iPod to drown out their conversation. “Hey!” he exclaimed roughly. “That was my death bed secret!”

“What?” she shrieked, raising her voice just as Jeff shushed her. “ _Don’t make me ask you again_ ,” she added in a fierce whisper.

He waved his hand around dismissively. “Symbolic death bed, don’t worry. You were moving, the secret was eating at me, hence the confession.”

Shirley drew her jacket closer to herself. “And here was me thinking it was because Big Cheddar and Tinkletown had a special connection going on,” she said with an element of hurt.

“We did,” he protested, immediately wincing at his word choice. “We _do_. We do. God, don’t give me that look, OK? You’re still my… what’s the cool thing these days? Bae?” He frowned. “Did I even say that right?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you,” Shirley replied with a wry smile. “But please,” she added, pointing her finger at him, “do us both a favor and never say bae again.”

“I’m already Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-ing myself.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jeff felt a surge of weariness hit him. “Do you think that will work on this whole bunker revelation, too?” he said quietly.

“Oh pumpkin,” Shirley sighed, resting her chin on top of her clasped hands. “Even if that strange little movie were real, you wouldn’t want that option, no matter how much the thought terrifies you.”

Jeff glanced over into the dining room where Annie was taking more ear selfies with Britta and Abed on her phone, smiling softly at the three of them laughing. “No,” he agreed, listening to the bright sound of Annie’s laughter, “I wouldn’t.”

“Good.” Shirley waited for Jeff to look back her way before continuing. “Because it’s pretty clear to me, even just from tonight’s observations, that Annie probably could have open that bunker by thinking of you, too.” Jeff opened his mouth to object but Shirley powered on. “It’s obvious you’ve been spending a lot of time together, with the baseball game and the strolls in the park. Not to mention the pop around visits.”

“It’s just so she can get some study done if Britta’s trying to sleep after a night shift. Or Abed’s on one of his movie benders,” Jeff said weakly.

“And she couldn’t go to the library?” Shirley said, receiving an eyebrow raise in return. “Alright, obviously not Greendale’s library, which I’m assuming still has that funky sewerage smell?”

“No, Frankie got onto that problem. It’s more so the cockroach infestation that’s really winning everyone over now,” Jeff said with a grimace. “Leonard started up a betting ring – there’s cockroach races every Tuesday.”

“And I am incredibly sad to be missing out on that,” she deadpanned. “But my point still stands. There’s something brewing between you two and if you let it percolate too long you’re both going to miss out.”

Jeff tilted his head to the side, allowing her words to sink in. “You can see the espresso maker over my shoulder can’t you.”

“It’s so _shiny_ ,” she said with a dreamy sigh, admiring the gleam of the silver before focusing back on Jeff. “My advice may originate from a beautiful appliance, but it’s good advice all the same.” Shirley frowned when Jeff only stared at her. “What?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just really hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing giraffe ears.”

“Jeffrey,” she scolded, whipping off her headband and fixing him with a stern gaze. “I know when things get too real you like to hide behind your humor, but the truth of it is that if you keep it up you’re only denying yourself a chance at true happiness.”

Jeff scuffed his shoe across the kitchen tiles. “I know,” he admitted. “It’s just…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t particularly like _myself_ right now, let alone the black hole of suck my life has become, so I don’t really know why anyone else would either.”

“Oh sweetie,” said Shirley gently, placing her hand on the screen as if she could push through and comfort him. “Please don’t ever say that. You’re worth more than you know.” She smiled as Jeff hesitated, before reaching out to touch his hand over hers.

Listening to a song playing in the background, Jeff couldn’t help but offer her a droll smile. “I feel like we’re up to the part of the Super Bowl commercial where Sara McLachlan makes us drink our own tears.”

“Annnnd the moment’s lost,” said Shirley, lowering her hand. “You’re such a damn fool,” she sighed in tender-laced frustration.

He chuckled, resting his arms on the bench. “But you still love me for it.”

“God help me I do.” Glancing at her watch, Shirley started to scoop up the ear cards littered around her. “It’s getting late, I’d better go. After all, I need my beauty sleep if I’m going to be infiltrating a morgue tomorrow.”

“She says as if it’s a normal, everyday sentence.” Jeff grinned at her. “Seriously, though. It’s nice to see you so content.” He picked at a speck of dirt stuck to the caps lock key of his laptop. “You might even make a person start to believe that Greendale’s not a life sentence.”

She smiled at him. “Keep in touch more often, you hear me? I’ve got plenty more Bennett Boosts to send your way if you need them.”

“Deal,” he replied, guiding his finger over the track pad to disconnect the Skype conversation. “Night, Big Cheddar.”

“Night, Tinkletown.”

Watching Shirley disappear from view, Jeff sat there staring at the blank Skype window until he heard someone shuffle into the kitchen.

“Why the long face, Lee Pace?” said Annie, stepping in beside him to lean her elbow on the bench. Her lips twitched into a roguish grin. “Is it because your playlist has finally run out of Dave Matthews Band songs?

He closed the laptop, shooting her a smirk. “That’s just the first playlist. The next one’s made up entirely of Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga’s jazz covers of the band’s greatest hits.”

“So, like, two songs then?”

“You wound me.”

Flashing him another grin, Annie contemplated his face, her expression soon turning curious. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, lifting her hand to give his arm a squeeze. “You seem a bit… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said, plastering on a reassuring smile. “Just wrapping my head around the fact that Shirley is apparently the new Nancy Drew.”

“I know, right?” Annie exclaimed, huffing out a small chuckle. “Good for her, though,” she added fondly. “She sounds like she’s really thriving over there.” Propping her back against the counter, Annie folded her arms. “Do you ever wonder who’ll be the next one to leave?” she asked quietly.

Gazing at her, Jeff nodded, feeling something in his chest tighten. “All the time,” he said, the corners of his mouth tipping up in a forlorn smile.

Annie swallowed roughly, opening her mouth to speak before changing her mind to step forward between Jeff’s legs and wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. She turned her head to lean her cheek against his chest, smiling when she felt his arms lift up to envelope her small frame.

“What’s this for?” said Jeff softly, resting his chin carefully on top of her head.

She felt the vibrations of his voice rumble through his body into hers and held onto the comfort. “I don’t know,” she said, attempting a shrug. “Hugs seem to be our group’s thing this year. It just felt right.”

Jeff lifted his chin away when he felt Annie shift, angling her head so that she was looking up at him. They smiled at one another, Jeff suddenly feeling edgy. “Bet the view up my nostrils is pretty great right now, huh?”

Rolling her eyes, Annie sighed in mock exasperation. “You really know how to ruin a moment don’t you?”

“So I’ve heard,” he said wryly.

Annie loosened her grip so that her hands slid around to hold onto Jeff’s arms. “Hey, do you mind if I come around to study again some time this week?” she asked, smoothing over a crease in his shirtsleeve. “Britta and Abed have suddenly decided they want to make a documentary about Chomsky and have already claimed the apartment as their ‘thinking pod’ so I’ll need an escape plan or else I might murder them.”

Jeff chuckled. “Of course,” he nodded. “Not that I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you decked out in an orange jumpsuit. I mean it’s no baseball outfit but...”

Annie stepped back from the hug and punched him in the arm, tampering down a smirk as he pretended to yelp in pain. “Don’t make me find a bowl of nachos to dump on your head, ass-face,” she bantered. She walked around him to the fridge and took out a bottle of water, plus a beer and a soda for Britta and Abed.

Fiddling with the iPod remote in his hands, Jeff turned towards her just as she was about to step out of the room. “Annie?” he blurted out, waiting for her to stop and look at him.

Annie paused, juggling the drinks in her arms. “Yeah?”

Running a hand through his hair, Jeff glanced at the floor before meeting her gaze. “I know it might sound selfish, but I hope there’s still more time before we have to throw another fake birthday party slash farewell.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t feel like this chapter of Greendale’s done just yet.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, smiling softly at him. “I hope so too.”


End file.
